A Portrait of the Blogger as a Sick Puppy
Tuesday, January 26th, 2016
With profuse apologies to James Joyce.
When you sweat the bed first it is warm and then it gets cold. Claaammy, Claaaaamy, Clammy’s in love. Kick them off! Kick them off! Ah, air. No no too cold. Covers. Covers and hot water bottle. Hug hot water bottle. Mmmmm warm… Why do my ribs hurt? I think I smell weird. Yeah, I definitely smell weird. Sweat. Gross. Fluids, fluids, fluids, bed rest. The water’s too cold. The tea is too hot. Oh god not sweat again. I ALREADY SMELL WEIRD.
Warm nourishing broth. I would like it to stay inside this time please. Ohh that’s why my ribs hurt. Sleep, sleep, fitful sleep. Sit up. Turn to side. The other side. Stomach? Nope nope nope nope definitely not stomach. Curled up in fetal. With trusty hot water bottle.
Through swimming eyes, 50 comments. Kind, thoughtful, funny. sweet. Warmer than a hot water bottle. I am suffused with gratitude.
